It started with a sneeze
by cutiesonthehorizon
Summary: Connor isn't feeling well. Will get's to be the lucky one to figure that out. Grumpiness ensues.


_**A/N:** Just a simple whump fic, made for an old prompt. It was sitting in my folder_ _for six months so I decided it was time to let it into the world to fend for itself. Unbetaed, probably not medically accurate, but I had fun writing it. I hope you'll enjoy._

* * *

It started with a sneeze. Someone in the ED waiting room sneezed, as it was bound to happen in such places. Twenty-four hours later, one third of the nurses and five doctors were down with the flu. Well, they were hoping it was the flu and not the plague, though there were rumors that some of the victims would've preferred the quick death over what they were going through. The only good thing that came from this sudden epidemic for the ED department was the fact that one of its first victims was Dr. Stohl, the head of the department. So even though they were all stretched thin and most of the current staff was serving a double shift, Will Hallstead was smiling each time he remembered how ten hours ago Dr. Stohl turned green in his face, puked all over the floor in front of the nurse's desk and crawled home with his tail between his legs. The embarrassment the man was going through was what kept Will happily walking the halls of the hospital, even though he still had almost five hours ahead of him to finish the double shift. And if said flu wasn't the extremely quick, one day virus, it was looking more and more like another sixteen hour shift was waiting for him the next day. Will shrugged off the thought and entered the rec room, a whistle on his lips.

"You look awfully chipper for such a crappy day," Connor spoke tiredly, looking up from the couch. Will paused, taking a look at the surgeon. Connor was laid out on the couch, his hair mussed up and he was currently rubbing at his face, as if just being woken up from sleep. If Will hadn't known better, he would've said Connor fell victim to the flu as well, but the man wasn't puking, sneezing or coughing all over the place, so that probably wasn't the cause. Or just not the primary one.

"I'm just thinking how great it is, not having to deal with Stohl all day. Maybe we should put up a collection and offer to send him on another long tour. Purely for medical research purposes, of course."

Connor snorted, then sat up, groaning.

"Damn that flu," he muttered and blinked, trying to wake up.

"Don't tell me you caught it too, man. I think you are among the last surgeons not taken down by this bugger. Although for the life of me, I'm not sure how it managed to spread so quickly and take down one third of the hospital."

"Personally, I blame Stohl. And patient zero." Connor yawned and Will shook his head.

"So, what's up with you? Are you just too tired to go home, or you don't feel like mingling with the sick?"

"Nah," Connor took a look at his watch. "It's my lunch break, I think. I'll get back to the frontlines in five minutes. Do we have any coffee?" He asked, looking hopefully at Will when he was pouring the last of the coffee into his cup. Will paused, then with a sigh offered his cup to Connor.

"You look like you need a boost. Were you partying last night or what?"

Connor practically inhaled the coffee, mumbling his thanks between sips.

"I had a morning shift yesterday, but Stevens from the nightshift fell sick and Wilson had to go home around one in the morning, because he was puking too. So I've got maybe... three hours of sleep before I was called in."

Will whistled.

"Nice. I thought I saw you already working when I came in the morning. So when are you planning on going home? I'm pretty sure being overtired during surgery isn't the best thing for the patient."

"Five more hours," Connor slurped down the rest of the coffee, wishing it was piping hot instead of half cold and stood up, stretching his arms and back. "Don't worry, I won't fall asleep. Think I'll grab some coffee beans from Reese, I heard they'll do the trick. Then it's eight hours of sweet, sweet sleep," Connor grinned, looking wistful and pumped at the same time.

"Suit yourself; just don't overdo it with caffeine. I saw Reese being hyper, not sure I want to see you the same while holding a scalpel."

Connor snorted then walked out of the rec room. Will turned, eyeing the empty coffee pot with grimace. He sighed, then put on a fresh pot, checking his cell phone during the wait. He had to snigger when he saw a message from Nina, with an attached photo of Stohl standing in a pool of puke and Maggie glaring daggers at him. Will didn't realize someone managed to catch that on a camera, but suddenly he had an urge to print it out and put it between the slides in one of the case presentation on the next M&M meeting, just for the heck of it.

Five hours and ten minutes later, Will once again walked into the locker room, this time though with only one thing in mind... grab his clothes and get the hell out of dodge, before one more doctor or nurse comes down with the sniffles and he'll have to listen to more pleading from the hospital administration to pull another shift. While his good mood lasted relatively long, a string of patients from a car accident, along with a dozen other people he was sending to their GP with that damned flu made for a busy double shift. Although the time passed quickly, his energy levels were also waning. And he couldn't even hit up Reese for the coffee beans as she was out of them herself and her lab friend was also waiting for another batch. Will shook his head and headed towards his locker, when he was, once again, faced with a slumbering form of Dr. Rhodes. This time though the man wasn't lying on the couch, but on the rather uncomfortable looking bench. He was already changed into his civil clothes, except for shoes and the jacket that was now bunched up under his head as a makeshift pillow.

Will's eyebrows went up and he contemplated grabbing a quick pic on his cell for later as a compromising material, but then he spotted the thin sheen of sweat on Connor's flushed face and let the idea pass. With a sigh, Will walked up next to Connor and gently shook his arm.

"Connor, man, if you wanted to take a nap, the couch would be a much better choice."

Connor blinked.

"What?" He squinted, then grimaced and tried to sit up, though he didn't realize he was on a bench and would've face planted the floor if not for Will's quick reflexes.

"Whoa, careful there. Last thing you need is a concussion." He pulled Connor up into a sitting position and steadied him by putting a hand on his shoulder. The movement though wasn't kind to Connor and he closed his eyes, his face turning pale. Will's own eyes went wide as he realized what that meant and without a second thought he grabbed the nearby trashcan, positioning it just in time to catch Connor's measly lunch and breakfast.

Grimacing, Will headed towards the sink and moistened a few paper towels, then pushed them into Connor's hand as soon as he stopped puking.

"If my shift wasn't already over, I would diagnose you with acute case of the flu from hell," Will stated when his palm momentarily rested on the back of Connor's neck, checking for fever as well as offering some comfort.

"I thought it was the plague," Connor muttered, running the wet towels over his face and grimacing at the taste in his mouth.

"How long were you feeling sick?" Will asked, while performing a quick basic exam he had already done probably hundred times today. He noted the swollen glands, the fever and the pain lines indicating headache and nausea. Pretty much by the book presentation, but Connor didn't seem to appreciate the fact when he informed him.

"I was feeling off since you woke me the last time," Connor admitted.

"I didn't wake you," Will protested and Connor looked at him in disdain.

"No, it was your whistling. Or at least the imitation of it," Connor snorted and the look on Will's face changed from concern to annoyance.

"Really. Here I am, trying to help you out, and you decide to insult my musical talents?"

"Nothing against your guitar play and singing, Will. But I would stick with the doctoring instead of whistling," Connor said with a slight grin on his face. Will pulled the stethoscope out of his pocket and motioned for Connor to pull up his shirt.

"You're a jerk, Dr. Rhodes. Anyone told you that?" Will found some satisfaction in the fact Connor winced when the cold metal touched his skin. He was just about finished, when the door to the room opened and Dr. Charles stepped in, pausing at the door. He took one look at the used trashcan, Will playing doctor and reached for the papers laid on the counter next to the door.

"I hope you didn't sneeze on those," he said with a warning, shook his head and walked out. Will and Connor exchanged a dumbfounded glance then both snickered like two school boys.

"Maybe I should sneeze and puke on everything," Connor said with a smirk and Will pulled down his shirt and put away his stethoscope.

"I'd rather you not. Some of us need to be able to work tomorrow and I'd rather we don't have to close the ED just because the staff couldn't stay healthy. If not for my sake, think about Sharon. Poor woman already spent half the day trying to get some support from other hospitals."

"I doubt she had much luck. I heard it's spreading like wildfire."

"Yeah well, best thing to do is to get you out of here so you won't spread the germs even more." Will took Connor's jacket from the bench and pushed it into his hands, then turned to his locker to change.

"Good idea," Connor muttered then pulled out his cell phone, looking through contacts but having trouble focusing on the small letters.

"Need help?" Will asked after a moment, watching the frustration grow on Connor's face, which was quickly turning from pale back to flushed from fever.

"Can't find the damn cab number," Connor said, squinting at the display then rubbing at his eyes.

"Cab? What for?"

"Car's broken. I took a cab to get to work last night, thought I might catch a train home, but... " frustrated, Connor put the phone aside and took a few wobbly steps toward the sink. After splashing some water on his face and clearing the awful taste of his mouth with several sips, he felt a bit steadier, but the idea of battling the train home made his stomach churn nervously.

Will rolled his eyes and finished changing.

"Right. You're in luck; for once my car is working, so I can drive you home. Just... don't sneeze, cough, and definitely no puking inside the car. Understood?"

"I knew you have a soft heart, Dr. Hallstead," Connor said with a thankful smile, ignoring the eye roll he got in reply.

"I'm not kidding. If you puke, you pay for the car wash. So if you feel sick... grab a basin or a bag, I don't care."

Will paused at the nurse's desk to say goodbye to the head nurse for the night shift and let her know there was some mess that needed to be cleaned up in the locker room, as well as to inform Sharon that Dr. Rhodes won't be on call the next day because he was sick. The nurse shot one look at Connor, grimaced then waved him away.

"Shoo. I'll let Miss Goodwin know, just get him outta here before he spreads it even further."

Connor looked a bit hurt, but Will didn't give him a chance to protest. Grabbing him by the arm, he quickly steered him outside, toward the parking lot.

"Do you have some meds at home or do we need to stop at the pharmacy?" Will suddenly asked and Connor tried to think of his medicine cabinet. It was obviously taking him too long, because Will sighed and shook his head.

"Never mind. I need to stop and buy something to eat anyway." With that he pointed Connor towards his car. Once they were buckled up inside, Will rolled down the window on Connor's side.

"I meant it when I said I don't want puke inside. You feel sick, just stick your head out," he said with a smile.

"Yeah, I do that and you'll drive by every pole on the road," Connor muttered.

"Sure, cause I have nothing better to do than explain Goodwin why I smashed her surgeon's head to pieces."

"I'm actually starting to think it would make my head feel better," Connor spoke several minutes later, startling Will who thought he was asleep.

"What?"

"Smashing my head into a pole."

"Can't say there wasn't a moment when I didn't feel inclined to it, but I think now's really not the time."

Connor blinked at the statement and looked at Will thoughtfully.

"I pissed you off that first day, didn't I?"

"You can't even imagine," Will laughed, then shook his head.

"Still pissing you off?"

"Nah, looks like you're not such a jerk after all," Will smirked and Connor snorted, but it was a wrong move, cause it started him coughing. He was kind enough to turn away from Will and towards the open window, but Will still grimaced at the sound. When Connor finally stopped coughing, he leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, tired to the bone. Will let him rest, but he closed the window on Connor's side as he was pulling up to the wall mart.

"You wanna come in or wait in the car?" he asked after the car came to a stop. Connor opened his eyes and looked around a bit dazedly. He swallowed tightly and shook his head.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll watch the car."

"I don't think the car's the one in need of watching, but suit yourself. Anything you need? Campbell's soup, Gatorade or caviar?"

"Funny," Connor turned a bit green at the mention of food and Will was starting to worry about his upholstery. Connor started rummaging through his pocket, then pulled out a fifty and handed it to Will.

"Leave out the caviar and you got it."

Will rolled his eyes but took the money.

"Anything else?"

"If you keep stalling, you'll need the money for the car wash," Connor warned him and Will took the hint and headed to the shop. That's what he got for playing good Samaritan... a Typhoid Mary in his car spreading germs all around and being snarky. Though to be fair, if he felt as crappy as Connor looked, he wouldn't be a ray of sunshine either. With a sigh, Will grabbed a cart and started perusing the isle with over the counter meds.

Fifteen minutes later, Will finally managed to leave the shop with two bags, a spare twenty for Connor and a crawling feeling that if he wasn't sick before, he will be now, because at least two cashiers were working while sick and he spotted one of the guys restocking the isle with fresh bread sniffling into his sleeve. Disgusted, Will grabbed some prepackaged toast bread and took a hasty retreat.

He was almost next to his car when he noticed that the passenger's seat was empty. Frowning, Will quickly deposited the two bags on the back seat and walked around the car, looking for signs of his colleague. There weren't many cars around and the parking lot was well lit, yet he couldn't find one doctor. Will started to feel uneasy. The passenger door was closed, the window still pulled up but there was no sign of Connor. Cursing under his breath, Will pulled out his phone and dialed Connor's number, hoping to hear the sound of the ringer. He didn't even try to stifle his curse when he heard the ringing coming from Connor's backpack sitting idly in the car.

"Damn it. Rhodes?" Will called out and started walking around the parking lot. What the hell would make Connor leave the car? He looked half dead on his feet. And did he leave on his own volition? Will couldn't come up with any reason why would someone take Connor, and the most logical theory was that he simply left himself. Without his backpack and phone. Which meant he was probably in a hurry... or planning to come back. Will was originally circling the parking lot back towards the wall mart, but he suddenly changed his mind and headed for the only patch with the bushes partially hidden from the light.

"You realize I said don't puke in the car... I didn't say anything about the pavement. You could've spared me a couple of nerves and five minutes looking for you." Will berated the form hunched over one of the bushes.

„Sorry... thought a bit of air might help," Connor replied and slowly straightened.

„Did it help?" Will asked a bit dubiously and received a glare.

„Think I brought up last thanksgiving's dinner," Connor muttered and rubbed at his face then started walking towards the parked car. Will walked nearby in case his friend decided to take a sudden face plant. Luckily for both of them, they made it back to the car without incident.

"Next time you go for a walk, at least take your phone," Will grumbled as he started the car.

"Yes, mom," Connor dutifully replied and Will snorted.

"Right. You know, for a second here I was thinking someone kidnapped you for ransom or something, but then I thought that you would just infect them with the plague and escape."

Connor couldn't help it, he had to laugh. Even though the laugh then turned into a fit of coughing, once it was over, there was still a small smile playing on his lips.

"I didn't know you cared, Dr. Hallstead," he said, sounding satisfied and leaned his head back on the seat, closing his eyes, so he didn't see Will rolling his eyes and smirking.

"And what good that will get me. Probably getting sick even before I get home," Will muttered under his breath, but Connor didn't seem to be listening anymore, so Will turned on the radio and focused on the road. It seemed like everyone else decided to go home at the same time and a drive that could take ten minutes lasted over thirty minutes. But finally they reached Connor's apartment building. Will was of half a mind just to wake the other man and send him on his merry way, but when he shook his shoulder, the heat coming off was rather disconcerting. Grimacing, Will put his hand on Connor's neck and cheek and was met by a bleary look.

"Are you coming onto me, William?" Connor drawled with a quirked eyebrow and Will snorted, taking the hand off his cheek.

"Sure. I've just decided that instead of a hot blond pathologist, I prefer a delirious, sweaty guy. Makes sense, right?"

Connor yawned and fumbled with his seatbelt.

"Nothing makes sense right now," he mumbled and opened the car door. "Thanks for the ride. Hope you don't catch this shit." With that Connor half stepped half stumbled out of the car and Will cursed, quickly grabbing Connor's forgotten backpack along with his shopping, then followed the wavering surgeon towards his apartment door.

"Think you forgot this," Will said when he caught up with Connor, who just realized he needed his house keys, which were in said backpack.

"Thanks man. Wanna come in for a beer?" Not that Connor felt up for visitors, but the least he could do was offer something to the guy that drove him home after a double shift.

"I still have to drive home, so no beer, thanks. But I'll be happier to see you made it inside and didn't fall asleep on the front steps. There are also some groceries here, which I don't trust you with."

"Ah, you have the best bedside manner."

"Yeah, I hear that a lot," Will quipped and tried not to comment when he saw Connor fumbling with the keys. He let out a relieved sigh when the lock finally opened and they both entered the apartment. Once inside, Connor took off his jacket, threw the backpack by the wall not even bothering to take out his phone. Will watched him lean against the wall while he struggled with the shoes, then Connor paused and looked up, as if only now realizing that Will had indeed taken him up on the offer and came inside.

"Uh, there's some soda in the fridge, if you'd like," Connor said, running a hand over his hair then grimacing at the feeling of grime and sweat covering his skin.

"Thanks. Hey, I know you feel like hell, so I'll just put the stuff I bought out and get out of your hair."

Connor bit his lip, not wanting to be rude, but really not feeling up to entertaining someone. Actually, if he thought about it, he didn't feel up much to anything, except... with a groan he turned around and sprinted towards the bathroom.

Will grimaced, but didn't follow. Instead he put out the groceries, grabbed some bottled water from the fridge along with the Gatorade, tissues and Tylenol he bought and put it on the table in front of the couch. When he heard a beep, he realized Connor's phone was still in his backpack and went to retrieve it. It wouldn't do to leave the man without means of communication. If nothing else, Sharon would be calling in the morning to check in. Having done all he thought necessary, Will decided it might be a good idea to check if his friend didn't fall asleep halfway to the bathroom. He paused in front of the door, not really wanting to enter but a bit concerned about the fact Connor hadn't emerged yet.

"Connor? You okay there buddy?" he asked, gently knocking on the door.

His only answer was a grunt and the sound of the running water. Rolling his eyes and hoping Connor wasn't in the shower, he pushed the door open.

"You know, you look like shit."

As if in answer, Connor spit out the water he used to clean the taste of bile out of his mouth and glared at Will's face in the mirror. Well, he tried to glare. The look Will received was mostly abject misery combined with severe lack of sleep.

"Cute," Will muttered, then with a sigh nodded his head. "Why don't you go lie down? I really doubt there's anything else to bring up, and I'll even put the trashcan by the bed so you don't have to run around like crazy."

"Don't say running around," Connor moaned and closed his eyes.

"Are you dizzy?" Will instantly turned into doctor mode and stepped closer to Connor, who was looking rather pale and a bit shaky. Frowning, Will reached for Connor's wrist and checked his pulse, ignoring the man's attempt to pull away.

"I'm fine."

"Right, and Stohl is a saint. Okay, to the couch. Come on." Steering him out of the bathroom, Will was suddenly hit with the memory of Jay getting sick as a kid, right after their mother died. Will was filled with panic then, because his first instinct was to call mom and let her take care of Jay, but she wasn't there anymore and the job fell on him. Of course he was a kid then, and Connor wasn't his brother, but the sudden urge to make sure he was safe and okay as he was stumbling his way towards the couch with his hair all tussled up was overwhelming. After watching Connor almost collide with a lamp, he had just about enough. Will grabbed his arm and practically pulled the feebly protesting surgeon towards the couch, pushing him down not so gently.

"When's the last time you ate or drank something?" he asked without a preamble.

"Uh... I had lunch?"

"And when was that, yesterday? Cause today I only saw you steal my coffee."

"Didn't steal it, you offered." Connor frowned at the accusation.

"Uh huh. Just cause you looked pitiful. If I'd known that's all you had all day, I would've drank it myself." Will opened the bottle of Gatorade and pushed it into Connor's hand.

"Drink that, slowly. Should help with your blood sugar and dehydration."

Connor took a reluctant sip then grimaced. He was still feeling queasy to his stomach and the Gatorade had just a bit too much flavor. He managed two more sips, then pulled a face and put the bottle down.

"Ugh."

"Come on, you should drink more."

"It'll just come up," Connor protested and looked up at Will miserably.

"Okay," Will sighed and sat down on the armchair. "I'll give you few minutes, then try it again. You really should drink more than just coffee when you're sick."

"I had a bottle of water earlier," Connor protested and Will rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Yeah, and you probably puked it all up three times already. You know you should watch out for dehydration with flu, or didn't they teach you that in Guadalajara?" Even as he blurted it out, Will realized it was a stupid thing to say. Connor's hurt look just confirmed it.

"Thanks for giving me the ride home, Will. Appreciate it. But I think I'll get some sleep now," Connor said in a clipped voice and it was a not so subtle sign that he wanted Will to leave.

"Hey, sorry man. I shouldn't have said that and I didn't mean it." Will apologized and after a bit of hesitation Connor gave him a nod, but didn't say anything else.

"I'll get out of your hair as soon as I'm sure you won't pass out or something."

"I told you I'm fine," Connor glared at him, but Will didn't back off.

"Sure. As fine as one can be after not drinking or eating for over a day, pulling a double shift after three hours of sleep and having the flu. The puking, paleness, shaky hands, dizziness and rapid pulse is just a bonus, right?" Will recited and by the end of it Connor had to admit defeat.

"Okay, I'll drink the blasted thing, just leave me alone."

„That's all I want," Will replied with some heat and reached for the remote control. Connor didn't seem to be in a chatty mood and it would be a shame not to use the chance to watch some sports on his HD television. Will tuned in on a football replay and made himself comfortable in the armchair, occasionally reminding Connor that he wasn't leaving until he drank enough of the Gatorade.

After about fifteen minutes, Connor looked a bit less pale and the hand holding the half empty bottle wasn't shaking anymore. Will stood up and headed for the kitchen.

"Can you handle chicken soup or do you prefer toast?"

"None," Connor muttered but Will didn't seem to be deterred by the lack of enthusiasm and he quickly prepared some toast for Connor and a sandwich for himself. He put the plate in front of Connor, who gave him a pitiful glare.

"You know, Jay had a much more effective glare when he was twelve."

"He had plenty of practice, I guess," Connor retorted, ignoring the food and trying hard to ignore Will as well, but the man was back in his face.

"Trust me, I want to be home as much as you want me gone. I'm also coming off a double shift and tomorrow isn't panning out to be any better." As Will spoke, Connor started looking a bit more contrite, almost apologetic. "But I won't leave until you look less like collapsing. What with the Hippocratic oath and all that jazz."

Connor blinked, thinking of the right reply, but he couldn't think of one. So instead he grudgingly took a bite of the toast. He managed two more bites and a sip of water, before giving up and putting it back on the table.

"Satisfied?"

"Ecstatic," Will rolled his eyes then turned back towards the TV, where the home team just scored a goal. He was finishing his own sandwich when he saw Connor's head slumping to the side, eyes closed. Will put his plate on the table and contemplated leaving, but there was still about 30 minutes till the game finished and the chair was just too comfortable to get up. With a shrug, he leaned back and made himself comfortable. It didn't really matter if he arrived home a bit late anyway.

It was some time later when Will woke up to his arm being shaken. Looking up, he saw a bleary eyed Connor watching him with some confusion.

"I thought you wanted to go home," Connor said with a scratchy voice.

"I thought so too," Will muttered, then looked at his watch and softly cursed. He must've been more tired than he realized, because he fell asleep almost four hours ago. It was close to midnight, the game was long over and Connor was still looking at him a bit peevishly. "Hey, not my fault your armchair is more comfortable than my bed," he tried to joke and Connor shook his head.

"Game must've been pretty boring," he muttered and slowly stood up, grimacing when his whole body protested the motion.

"How you feeling?" Will asked and stretched out. The chair might've been comfortable, but the position he fell asleep in wasn't and he felt the tension building in his neck.

„A little bit like floating, but the nausea is mostly gone," Connor said in reply, ignoring the cursory look Will was giving him and trying to get back some footing. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Will frowned.

"You look just about done in."

"Yeah, well... couple of double shifts will do that to you," Will opposed a bit annoyed. Connor raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Hey, I just meant... maybe you could crash on the couch. Wouldn't want to read in the morning paper that a young doc crashed his car because he fell asleep behind the wheel."

"Think I got plenty of sleep just now."

"Come on, I swear that couch is ten times more comfortable than the chair."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're scared of staying alone," Will joked and Connor rolled his eyes.

"Sure. Each night I bring someone home to tuck me in, cause I'm scared of monsters," Connor said, his face serious, though his voice cracked at the end. "You go home, you lose another hour of sleep commuting. And trust me, right now you need an extra hour of beauty sleep."

"I should've just left you on that parking lot," Will grumbled but didn't protest when Connor threw him a spare blanket and a pillow. "There are clean shirts in the hallway closet if you need something to sleep in." Connor yawned and shook his head.

"Sorry for not giving you the tour... think I need to hit the sack too."

"Yeah, I'll freshen up a bit then come tuck you in," Will joked and Connor snorted, then headed to his bedroom. He was just a bit startled when few minutes later Will knocked on the door and entered.

"You know I meant it as a joke, right? I really don't need to be tucked in," Connor frowned, turning on the bedside lamp. Will rolled his eyes.

"No, I take everything you say seriously."

"What?" Connor sat up in the bed, confused. He felt a bit feverish, but didn't think he was delirious.

"Oh, stop looking so... confused. Here, I just brought you some meds, water and your cell phone. I'm pretty sure Sharon will be calling you in the morning."

"Thanks."

Will thought it would've been funny how Connor's face changed from puzzled to relieved, if not for the unfocused look and the reddening cheeks that spoke about the rising fever.

"Any chance you have a thermometer around here?" Will asked and Connor tilted his head.

"What, are you getting sick too?"

"No, idiot. I wanted to check if your brain isn't boiling and thought you would prefer the scientific method, instead of a kiss on the forehead like my mother used to do."

The red on Connor's cheeks become more pronounced and Will had to stifle his laughter.

"I'd prefer none, thanks. Just let me get back to sleep," Connor grumbled. Will shrugged and reached out to put his palm on Connor's forehead, but the surgeon ducked and glared.

"Stop it. I don't need coddling."

"Then maybe stuff your pride in the closet and for once let someone help you, you idiot," Will snapped back, quickly losing his own patience. Both men glared at each other, unwilling to give up. They might've been stuck in the standoff until morning, but Connor's body had just about enough. A small tickle in the back of his throat quickly changed into a coughing fit and Connor's glare was gone in a second. Will patted him on the back and pushed the bottled water into his hand once the fit was over. Connor gave him a thankful nod and took a few swallows.

"Bottom left drawer, bathroom," he croaked and Will gave him a satisfied smile, then went in search of the item.

"103.6."

"Could be worse," Connor muttered and Will rolled his eyes.

"I'm a bigger fan of the double digits."

"Somehow I doubt you'd be happy with anything below 98."

"Don't see why I should be. 98 is such a nice number."

"I'd much more prefer this bug to be twenty feet underground."

"Smartass," Will muttered under his breath as he headed for the bathroom. He found a small hand cloth and rinsed it out in cold water. Returning to the bedroom, he plopped the cloth on Connor's head without warning.

There was some spluttering as Connor's face was hit by the wet cloth and the surgeon let out a string of curses.

"Oops. Looks like I forgot to rinse it out properly," Will said, voice full of innocence. Connor pulled the cloth off and glared at him, flustered.

"If you're done with your 'help'," Connor said, the apostrophes practically visible in the air, "I'd like to get some sleep. Just slam the door closed when you'll leave in the morning." Connor then draped the wet cloth over his eyes, successfully ending any possible conversation.

"Right," Will muttered, amused by the dismissal. If Connor thought he would leave in the morning without paying him a visit, he was sorely mistaken. "Well then, good night, and don't let the bed bugs bite."

Just for the heck of it, Will tucked the blanket in around Connor, ignoring the startled protests, then he turned off the bedside lamp and walked out of the room, trying not to chuckle when he heard Connor's defeated groan.

However comfortable Connor's couch might've been, Will still woke up achy and stiff. At least he was trying to blame the couch for it, really hoping it wasn't the first sign of the blasted flu. Though at this time it would be a miracle if he didn't get it, what with spending the night with Typhoid Mary.

Stifling a groan, Will grabbed his cell phone and turned off the annoying beeping of the alarm clock. It was six in the morning and he would like nothing more than to burrow into the blankets and sleep away the day. Though he would much prefer his own bed.

Sitting up, he took a moment to wake up, rubbing the kinks out of his neck. He paused a bit when he heard a shuffling sound from behind him. Turning around, he saw Connor making his way towards the fridge, eyes half closed and looking like one of the zombies from the walking dead, sans the blood and rotting flesh.

"What are you doing up so early?" Will wanted to ask, but all he got out was the "What-" when Connor jumped back and looked at him with wild eyes.

"Fuck!" he swore, one hand going up towards his heart, the other grasping the counter.

"Whoa," Will raised his hands placating, realizing he startled the other doctor. "Sorry. Thought you saw me sitting here."

Connor took several calming breaths, which in turn started him coughing. By the time he finished, Will crossed the room and was standing next to him, looking worried.

"I forgot," Connor said, between coughs, shaking his head in embarrassment. "Scared the hell out of me," he said after a moment, grimacing.

"Yeah, I noticed. You kinda startled me too... I thought you would still be asleep."

"Felt sick," Connor admitted then opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Will frowned. He didn't notice any movement during the night, but it was possible that he was just too tired and slept like a lug.

"Have you been sick during the night too?"

"Few times." Connor took a sip of water, relishing in its coldness. He leaned against the kitchen counter, took another sip then put the bottle against his cheek.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Will reprimanded him, automatically reaching for his forehead to check for temperature. Connor just raised his eyebrows, enduring the check without protest, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

"Really? You were snoring so loud I couldn't hear myself puking," he joked and Will rolled his eyes.

"I don't snore."

"You do. It's a wonder Jay didn't try to smother you with a pillow when you were bunking together."

"Jay slept like a lug," Will commented idly, his focus on Connor who was looking more flushed than last night. "Your temps up. Why don't you go back to bed?"

"It would be rude to leave my guest alone," Connor protested. He felt tired and sweaty and his skin was crawling, but he had no intention of returning to his bed yet. His stomach was still wonky and at least talking with Will made him think about something else for the moment. "You want some coffee?" he asked and turned towards the coffeemaker, ignoring Will's frustrated sigh.

"Sure. Why not. I'll just go to the bathroom to freshen up a bit."

Will left Connor alone in the kitchen and the moment he was gone, Connor sagged and plunked down on one of the bar stools. He felt like a total idiot. When he woke up in the middle of the night, feeling sick, he ran towards the bathroom in silence, realizing Will was sleeping on the couch. But as he woke up in the morning to the nausea and overall feeling of his worst hangover ever, he felt absolutely confused. After stumbling out of the bathroom, he headed to the kitchen, seeking something cold to put on his head and trying to figure out what day it was, before Will startled him. At least the kick of adrenaline helped return his memory and Connor cringed

when he remembered about Will tucking him in. He won't live this down, no way.

Will walked back to the kitchen, feeling a bit refreshed, though even the quick shower couldn't take the kink out of his neck. There was an annoyed sounding beep from the coffee machine that finished its work and offered up a steaming cup of coffee. Will took the cup from the machine, tried a sip and let out a satisfied sigh. Enjoying the rich taste of the black coffee and the warmth that soothed his throat, Will leaned against the counter and looked at the slumbering form in front of him.

Connor was sitting precariously on the bar stool, his head laid down on his arms, which rested on the table top. There was a light sheen of sweat on his face and Will could hear some congestion even from several feet away. The man looked pitiful and Will wondered if he should wake him up or just manhandle him towards the couch. After a few more sips of the coffee, and after Connor started sagging to one side, threatening to topple down, Will put away his cup.

"Okay, time to move," Will spoke and reached for Connor's shoulder, pushing him back on the seat before he could fall. Connor blinked, frowning.

"What?" he asked, confused. "Where..." he started to ask, but he quickly recognized his own kitchen. The only thing that didn't belong was Will.

"Oh. It's you."

Will snorted.

"Sorry to disappoint, cowboy. Who did you expect?"

"Well..." Connor yawned and straightened a bit, shooting a look at Will's hand which was still hovering close. "I would prefer Robin wiping my fevered brow."

"That's the thanks I get for risking my own health? Nice, Rhodes."

Connor shrugged then put his head back down on the cool counter, eyes slowly watching Will as he sipped his coffee.

"You could enjoy my luxurious apartment," he said with a small smirk. "And the great coffee."

"The apartment is overrated. There's no Jacuzzi, no hot girls around," Will said. "And the coffee isn't worth the headache I'll get if I catch your bug."

"Sorry. I'll bring you hot soup and tell Nina to wipe your fevered brow," Connor muttered, sounding serious.

"As long as you don't tuck me in, I can live with that," Will said with a smirk and laughed when he saw Connor's face turn from pale to crimson.

"That didn't happen. I will deny everything."

"If it makes you feel better, go ahead," Will replied and chuckled when Connor buried his face in his hands with a groan.

„No one will ever believe you," Connor muttered and Will shrugged. That was probably true, but it didn't mean he couldn't rib Connor about it for a while. He would do the same for Jay. Will finished the coffee and rummaged through the scarily empty fridge to find something edible, but the only thing he found was the stuff he bought last night.

"Man, this looks worse than my fridge two days before paycheck. Are you on some kind of air diet or did I just catch you before a supply run?"

Connor looked up, chin resting on his arms and eyes looking a bit glassy.

"I mostly eat outside or grab some takeout. Though I was planning on going grocery shopping today."

"Not in the state you're in right now, I wouldn't think so," Will said, grabbing a toast and some questionable piece of cheese and closing the fridge. "You look like a zombie and we don't need you spreading the germs all over the city. You can buy the groceries online anyways."

"What, no concern for the delivery guy?"

"Right, you might scare the poor sap. Just tell him to leave it at the door." Will sniffed the cheese then put some bread into the toaster.

"You want some toast?"

Connor grimaced then shook his head.

"No, thanks. Think I'll just go and suffer quietly on the couch." As if to emphasize his point, Connor let loose a huge sneeze that made Will wince in sympathy as well as instinctively turn aside. Connor sniffled, then pushed off the counter and wobbly headed for the couch. Will could've sworn that he was out before his head hit the pillow. Shaking his head, Will grabbed the finished toasts and ate the measly breakfast at the kitchen table.

Twenty minutes later, after a quick check on Connor and leaving some necessary supplies on his coffee table within easy reach, Will closed the door behind himself and headed to work. Truth be told, he would've preferred a chance to go home, change his clothes and... well, his bed sounded much more preferable than work. Shaking off the sudden tiredness, he resolutely started his car and headed towards the hospital. He already got a text message from Nina asking if she will see him at work or if he decided to play nursemaid to Rhodes. Will grimaced, wondering if anyone at work will know about how he spent last night, then shrugging it off. After all, he just helped out a colleague and fell asleep in the process. Though he and Connor weren't known to be the best of buddies, it would definitely arise less brows than if he'd say fallen asleep at Natalie's couch. That... well, that probably wouldn't go over so well. With a sigh, Will straightened up and walked into the hospital, secretly almost envying Connor the fact he could sleep in and that he won't have to face a second 16 hour shift in a row.

* * *

Two days went by and Will really didn't understand how he could've envied Connor the cold from hell. He would much rather face several drunk patients at once than lay in his bed, sniffling and feeling as if he was gonna puke up everything from last Christmas and beyond. For a second he wondered how did Connor manage not to puke during that car ride, because Will was having problems keeping down even the cup of water Nina pushed at him. Though his respect for Connor vanished in a second as he realized the surgeon was the real cause for his suffering.

"Damn that Rhodes," he grumbled, just as Nina walked into the bedroom, fully dressed and prepared to leave for work.

"Real mature, Will," she smirked and walked up to him, handing him a nice, cold cloth to put on his forehead. Will moaned appreciatively, then frowned at her.

"It's his fault," he said petulantly. Nina rolled her eyes.

"Are you sure it was Dr. Rhodes and not one of the fifty patients with the flu you treated this week?"

"Pretty sure. That's what I get for playing good samaritan. I hope he's feeling just as miserable as I am," Will said and he even meant it, for maybe five seconds. Realistically, this was mostly the fever speaking. And the fact he was one of the last to catch the bug, which meant some of his colleagues were already up and back at work... without the need to pull several double shifts in a row.

Nina just smiled and handed him a bottle of pills and water, then put his cell phone on the nightstand.

"If you need anything, just call. And take it easy."

"As if I can do anything the way my head is spinning," Will said, realizing he was being grumpy, but not really caring about it. Luckily, Nina was rather understanding or she just decided to ignore him for the time being. She gave him a light peck on his cheek.

"Okay, I have to go to work. While my patients can wait, I think their company is less risky for me right now."

"Ha, ha, you're so funny," Will said, his face clearly stating the opposite.

"I know. That's why you love me," Nine wiggled her eyebrows and waved at him. "Don't throw a party without me," she said and left.

"Only thing I'll be throwing is my yesterday dinner," Will called after her and sniffled when he heard her laughter, then the closing of the door.

"Great. Now I can enjoy some quality time..." he muttered sarcastically, fluffed his already too hot pillow and turned on his other side. Maybe he could try and sleep through the worst of the bug, he was definitely tired enough to try.

Fifteen minutes later, Will tossed and turned so much he managed to kick all the blankets off the bed, yet he still felt hot, tired and bored out of his mind. The fact the sun was shining through the blinds right at his face didn't help. He was just about fed up and ready to get out of bed, to do what he didn't know, when there was a knock on the door.

A bit surprised, Will sat up in the bed and listened, not sure if he heard right. A moment later there was another knock and Will got up. It was either a friend or foe... one was good for chatting, the other he could easily dissuade by a well timed sneeze.

„Coming," he grumbled and shuffled out of the room. By the time he reached the door there was another knock and Will huffed. „Hold your horses, I'm coming." He looked through the peephole, then shook his head in disbelief.

"What, you came to wipe my fevered brow?" Will asked as he opened the door.

"Nope, last we spoke, that was Nina's job. I just came to tuck you in," Connor smirked. For a second Will stood still, blinking. Then he snorted, took the bag of goodies Connor was waving in his face and grumpily stumbled away, leaving Connor standing in the doorway.

Connor didn't wait for an invite, knowing well that he wouldn't get any. He followed Will into the cozy living room. Will put the bag on the table, then flopped down on the couch, looking pretty much like a kicked puppy. Connor almost felt sorry for him, but the glare that was thrown his way quickly dissuaded him. So he sat down on the chair, trying hard not to look too concerned or amused. The lingering weariness from the flu he still felt helped with that, along with Will's accusing glare.

"This is all your fault, Rhodes."

"I would argue it was Stohl who started it, but I admit the car ride probably didn't help you."

Will grumbled something under his breath, then let out a mighty sneeze. Connor winced and instinctively pushed the chair a little farther from the couch. He realized it was a ridiculous move, after all, he himself just stopped being contagious. The look Will gave him just acknowledged his thoughts.

"Sorry. Instinct."

"Should've let you call an uber few days back," Will huffed, then leaned back into the couch, giving Connor an appraising look and finding him looking 100 percent better than last time he saw him.

"Well, you didn't," Connor said appreciatively, then reached for the bag and started unpacking it. "Which is why I brought you chicken noodle from Gene's."

Will managed to look impressed. Gene's chicken soup was famous and despite his dwindling appetite he was pretty sure his stomach can handle that. Connor handed him the carton box with the still warm soup and the plastic spoon, hiding his smirk as Will sniffed at the soup and ate a spoonful. The half hour ride to Gene's and the small wait was definitely worth the satisfied look on Will's face as he proceeded to slurp down the soup with gusto.

Will pointed towards the TV remote, feeling a bit awkward when the only sound in the room was the slurping and ragged breathing. Connor turned on the TV and spent a moment browsing, finally stopping on a replay of a football game.

"I just wanted to-" Connor started after a moment, at the same time as Will asked: "So when are you going back to work?"

They both paused and smirked, the awkwardness in the room evaporating.

"Tomorrow. Most of the staff is already back though people are still coming in. Sharon somehow managed to stay on top of things and healthy, don't have a clue how."

"Probably barricaded herself in the office and gave out orders through the phone," Will guessed, though it was highly unlikely. If anything, Sharon Goodwin simply scared off any virus that dared to cross her way. She was impressive like that.

"So..." Connor broke into Will's thoughts and suddenly looked a bit sheepish. Will gave him a curious look.

"So?"

"Just wanted to say thanks," Connor shrugged, looking for all like a sheepish kid. "For the ride home and stuff."

"You mean for tucking you in and making sure there were no monsters under your bed?" Will asked innocently and Connor snorted.

"Right, _that_ never happened."

"I knew I should've taken some photos," Will sighed melodramatically, then regretted it when he started coughing. Connor grabbed the carton of soup that was precariously balancing on Will's lap and handed him a tissue from the box on the table.

Sputtering, Will took the tissue, although he glared at Connor warningly when the surgeon tried to clap him on the back.

"Hands off, typhoid Mary," he grumbled between coughs and Connor rolled his eyes.

"Come on, I thought we agreed it wasn't me who started this mess."

"I didn't agree with anything," Will protested, happy he got his breath back. "Next time I'll just leave you in the locker room and put a quarantine sign on the door."

"Well, I sincerely hope there won't be any next time. Not sure I want to be so closely acquainted with my dinner as I was the last three days."

"Ooh, TMI Rhodes. Too much info," Will turned a bit green himself, suddenly unsure if the soup was such a great idea.

"Sorry," Connor had the good grace to look apologetic, though there was still a smirk playing on his lips. "Do you want me to hold your hair while you puke?" he asked playfully and Will growled, the nausea momentarily forgotten.

"Get out, you punk. Go pester the folks at the hospital. See if I ever help you again," Will grumbled as Connor stood up and made his way towards the door, smiling.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you something else too," he pointed towards a small paper bag that was standing inconspicuously next to the table. "To keep you company, in case Nina won't have time to tuck you in," Connor added and left before Will could either say something to him or throw the now empty carton of Gene's soup after him.

Eyeing the bag with some suspicion, Will slowly reached out for it. It wasn't heavy, but there was definitely something inside...

"Smartass," Will snorted as he took a look at the brown plushy bear in a doctor's coat with a stethoscope hanging around its neck and a nametag that read Dr. Will the Grumpy Bear .

"Next time, I'm definitely taking photos," Will swore and started to put the bear back into the bag, thinking about handing it over to the children's ward, but paused. The bear was actually cute... and funny. At least Nina would surely find it amusing. The more he thought about it - and it was probably the fever that even made him think about it - the more he got the feeling that giving the bear away would be a mistake. After all, it had his name on it... and he'd really rather not start explaining to his colleagues just why he got that gift. Nope, the bear was staying right there on the couch, helping Will think about the best payback to one Dr. Rhodes. With that thought in mind he fell asleep.

 **The End**


End file.
